


Hush

by ChrissiHR



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Darcy Lewis-centric, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, F/M, Gags, I Blame Tumblr, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Massage, Panty Kink, ShieldShock - Freeform, Smut, Spanking, Tumblr Prompt, Vaginal Fingering, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-05 08:59:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10302992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrissiHR/pseuds/ChrissiHR
Summary: Darcy loved lazy Saturdays. Pliant and warm, she rolled her hips, chasing the thick fingers working her over, inside and out. Forgetting herself, she reached for her swollen ***, but a firm spank to her ***** was all the reminder she needed to keep her hands busy elsewhere. There were rules.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostCrumpet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostCrumpet/gifts).



> For @hushhorizon/GhostCrumpet, who wanted some smutty ShieldShock/Dommy Steve (and helpfully provided a very specific wishlist). I drafted this almost a month ago and forgot to post it! My bad! Sorry for the delay!
> 
> Now, remember that teaser I posted a month or so ago...? Enjoy the rest!
> 
> Suggested listening: Sway by Marian Hill

On a wide bed, high above the chaos of Manhattan and the day to day humdrum of busy city life, Darcy Lewis-Rogers writhed at the mercy of her husband’s questing fingers. 

Her day started off anything but ordinary. 

God, she loved lazy Saturdays. 

Pliant and warm, she rolled her hips, chasing the thick fingers working her over, inside and out. Forgetting herself, she reached for her swollen nub, but a firm spank to her pussy was all the reminder she needed to keep her hands busy elsewhere. 

There were rules. 

Darcy got an extra slippery, oily, head to toe massage with a deliriously happy ending if she didn’t make any demands or try to rush him by touching herself.

The first was easily solved when he stuffed the soaked pink panties in her mouth. The shock of it forced her jaw open wider and he took advantage, stuffing in more and more until all she could taste and smell was her own sex.

The second required the real restraint on her part. No touching, no rushing. She buried her fingers in the sheets and lifted her hips, waiting. Please, please, she begged with her eyes.

But Steve would not be moved.

At the end of their bed, he sat casually, one knee propped up under her leg with her foot hooked inside the bend of his knee. The little side table from the hall had been moved to the end of the bed, too, to hold all his favorite accessories for these lazy Saturdays in. Scented, skin-friendly oils, honey dust, a trio of vibrators of varying sizes, and something hidden under one of his hankies.

She shivered.

Darcy loved surprises.

“How’s that, doll? Feel good?” 

He nearly caught her out, but Darcy remembered there were rules to obey if she wanted her reward.

“Uh huh,” she mumbled around the mouthful of damp panties.

“Having trouble with our rules?”

She shook her head and promised to be good in every possible way—contrite eyes and soft, rounded shoulders. Relaxing her legs, she let her knees drift farther apart to give him room to work his magic. She sank into the mattress and consciously tried to relax the clenching muscles of her belly and glutes, but his fingers swirled through the little pool of oil in the crease of her thigh and trailed over her mound to tickle at her clit. She bucked, letting go of the sheets to lunge for his hand.

“Ah ah,” he snatched his hand away. “Hands on your thighs, doll. Keep ‘em there or I stop.” He flicked the edge of his fingernail against her clit to emphasize each word. “Every. Time.”

She wanted to scream, to cry, anything to make him touch her harder, just a little more pressure. So close. Always so close, right there on the edge of spilling over.

Instead, she barked a sullen pair of sobs into the gag and subsided, trembling hands on thighs, oiled flesh quivering in the warm air of their apartment.

“So tight and wet today,” he added conversationally, resuming the same quick, maddening pattern of strokes—shallow, deep, shallow, shallow, deep, deep—he’d used before to devastating effect. “All that for me, baby doll?”

“Mm, mm-hmm,” she nodded eagerly, eyes shut against the sight of his pleasant smile and merciless strokes. Before he began this morning, he wedged a pillow under her hips, tilting her bottom up to afford her an unobstructed view of the show she would put on for them both. The view might kill her before he did. She dragged her eyes open and pleaded for mercy with a deliberate pulse and release of her pelvic muscles.

“Getting close already?” His brow furrowed and he tsk’d in disappointment, redoubling his efforts to hit her g-spot, the bastard.

Desperate, she tried to curl forward to stave off the impending orgasm as he eased back again and let her settle.

But just a few moments later, he was at it _again_ , relentless, pushing two fingers deep and petting her g-spot like stroking a lazy kitten while the other hand stroked her knee, her thigh, toyed with the undercurve of her ass and deftly parted her cheeks to work a little more oil into any spots he’d missed.

“Don’t you come yet, baby doll,” he warned, pushing his desperate wife to the edge with another soothing, maddening stroke of calloused fingers. “Wouldn’t wanna have to spank this pretty pussy a’yours again so soon, would I?”

“Nuh.” She shook her head frantically, fluttering around his hand, the flex and release a cascade of muscle spasms along his thick fingers.

“Mm… Thinkin’ about me?” he taunted. “About how you'll stretch when I split you open with this?” Loose-limbed and easy with their Saturday routine, he fisted his cock, pumping until a bead of precum formed at the head. He swiped it with a fingertip and leaned up the bed to push her gag aside and rub the bitter slick across her lip.

“Guh,” she groaned into her panties, bearing down with a determined grunt to master control over her orgasm as his scent mingled with hers in her mouth and filled her head.

“Make you a deal,” he began and withdrew to his original seat to slip his fingertips through the slick and oil rubbed into her bare mons.

“Wuh?” she demanded. Christ, anything, name it, she thought, clawing at her thighs.

“You hold off until I finish the first time,” he teased, slipping his finger free and grabbing her leg to press her knees together and lay them to one side while her shoulders remained on the bed. Oh god. Not like this. Too intense, too tight, too everything. No deal.

“Nuh dea,” she grunted when the head of his cock rubbed along her slippery cleft. Briefly, she closed her eyes on a tortured moan.

“You hold off that long, and I’ll give you all the orgasms you want today, tonight, tomorrow, no holding back.”

Fuck.

She whimpered, eyes fluttering open to find his, patient and waiting.

“That’s not an answer, baby doll,” he reminded her with a sharp slap of fingertips to her oiled pussy. The crack, the suddenness of it sent a jolt through her system, edging back the overwhelming sensation enough to think. One time. She could… She panted into the silk gag. She could do one time.

“Wuh!” she garbled, lifting a finger from her thigh to reinforce her intent. She could do _one_ more.

“That’s my girl.” He patted her sex gently and she felt it every bit as acutely as the stinging slaps.

Steven Grant Rogers was going to be the fucking death of her.


End file.
